


and I sell my soul for the high,

by MetaAllu



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Begging, Damien is a sadist, Humiliation, Ignoring him but like... sexually, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Prostate Milking, and that gets Robert's dick wet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetaAllu/pseuds/MetaAllu
Summary: He runs his teeth slowly over his bottom lip, and then spares a look downwards, where Robert Small sits, kneeling between his legs, head resting on one of his thighs.  Absently, Damien reaches down with his hand to run through the mess on top of Robert’s head before using that hand to turn the page.





	and I sell my soul for the high,

**Author's Note:**

> Consensual and safe words implied but Damien is very mean and makes some remarks alluding to Robert's intelligence, so pass this one up if that's gonna be rough for ya.
> 
> Title from [Horns](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5up5B9n7ICA%22)

The curtains of Damien’s study are half drawn as he lounges in a cushy chair made of varnished wood and silken dark blue fabric.  He’s got a book in his hands, which would be a prim and civilized picture were it not for the fact that he’s reading a DCe fan comic, flipping pages patiently, watching the intimacy between Superboy and Red Robin grow ever sweeter.

He runs his teeth slowly over his bottom lip, and then spares a look downwards, where Robert Small sits, kneeling between his legs, head resting on one of his thighs.  Absently, Damien reaches down with his hand to run through the mess on top of Robert’s head before using that hand to turn the page.

Robert exhales warm against the clothed skin of his thigh, then buries his nose against him, a small noise hitching out of him.

Damien’s wicked smile is hidden behind the pages of his comic as he reaches out for a small remote sitting on the side table beside his cup of iced coffee.  He pushes a small knob higher up the device and Robert jumps, mouth falling open and wet against Damien’s pant leg.

“Dames.” It’s rougher than usual, breathless.  Damien hums in reply and presses his heel against Robert’s throbbing cock.  A broken noise croaks from between Robert’s lips, more following, falling like the torrent of a waterfall as Damien ignores him and he ruts up into the pressure of the slighter man’s heel.

There was a time when Robert would never stoop so low, when doggedly humping against another man would be unthinkable, but those days are behind them.  He has been carefully and patiently broken down, and though there is still impatience and desire to those rocking hips, he doesn’t beg, doesn’t ask for anything beyond what Damien has decided to give him in this moment.  He tilts his head back, arches his back, baring his sweating tanned skin, teeth clenched tight together as he puffs out desperate breaths.

“Dames,” he whines again, and Damien looks up from his book, cocking his eyebrows.

“Dogs don’t talk,” he informs Robert as if he’s particularly slow.  Robert whimpers and drops his head back onto Damien’s thigh, eyes sliding shut.  He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but he refrains from speaking, letting little whines out instead.

There is a telltale squirm to his hips, and Damien can tell he’s trying to squirm away from the toy pressed up against his prostate, the combination of vibrations and oversensitivity no doubt painful considering he’s been like this for over an hour now, hands clasped tightly together, not daring to touch himself in any way Damien doesn’t approve of, since that’s the fastest way to find himself kicked out and desperate.  Not that that isn’t still a possibility.

The toy doesn’t budge from the clench of Robert’s ass, and Damien turns it up another notch as punishment for even trying, delighting as a shout wrenches itself from Robert’s worn throat.

“Oh,  _ god _ ,” he gasps, eyes rolling back a little, mouth falling back open.  “Mmm, baby,  _ please _ .  Please, I can’t--” He’s cut off with a yelp as Damien slaps him across the face.

“What did I  _ just _ say? Are you really that cock-stupid you can’t follow a simple instruction?” Damien demands, looking at him with disappointment.  “Say another word and I’ll simply call another doggie over to take your place.”

Robert gives a little sob, head lolling, but he goes quiet even as his body shakes and his hips work back onto nothing.  He still can’t stop moans and whines from escaping, but those are acceptable, and Damien doesn’t reprimand him, just goes back to ignoring him, even as his shaking gets stronger, even as his noises get louder, and then he’s writhing, toes digging restlessly into the carpet, teeth clamping down on his own bottom lip, face scrunching with such overwhelming pleasure that a few tears slip free.

His cock twitches uselessly, already only able to keep a half mast, little more than a few drops slipping free.  It flags fully, but Damien doesn’t so much acknowledge him, doesn’t make any move to turn the toy inside of him off or down, and Robert gives a cry as the pleasure turns to pain and back to pleasure, climbing higher and higher, dragging the orgasm on and into pain that his brain can’t sort or separate from the desperate pleasure.

He bucks, and curls up on the floor at Damien’s feet, more tears slipping free.  Damien does look up, then, watchful, waiting, counting in his head, but Robert looks up at him, teeth still clamped on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t say anything, so Damien hums, nudging him with his foot, and goes back to his book.

 


End file.
